


Swords, Space Vampires, and Stalactites

by Rokeon



Category: Highlander - All Media Types, Highlander: The Series, Stargate - All Series, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Crossover, Gen, Immortals in Space, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-03
Updated: 2007-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rokeon/pseuds/Rokeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John Sheppard is an Immortal, making him at least 30% less suicidal than he appears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homesickness

John signs off on the armory inventory once a week, so he knows exactly how many Ka-bars, bayonets, and machetes he could put his hands on if he so desired. The knife on his belt is from his personal collection, not the SGC issue, and the last time he was in Colorado he picked up a pair of tactical tomahawks that have the right length and balance to substitute for Athosian sticks. Hell, ninety-eight percent of his command is made up of Marines; smart money says that at least one of them has a Mameluke stashed somewhere. 

It still feels like he left the gas on back on Earth. 

He knows, intellectually, that for as long as he stays in Pegasus he has about as much use for a hand-and-a-half sword as he does a slingshot. But his sword isn't just a weapon: it was a gift from his teacher. And that's another thing niggling at his mind, the thought that he hasn't spoken to Matthew since he was received his commission. He needs to write him a letter. He probably should have recorded something when they were sending their last messages before the siege, but how was he supposed to have the Air Force deliver it? "This is a message for FBI Agent Matthew McCormick, assuming he hasn't faked his death and assumed a new identity. If he has you ought to be able to reach him care of Cory Raines, just look for a series of bank robberies followed by large charitable donations." That would go over real well under the mountain. 

Now that he thinks about it, he really needs to write that letter before Matthew starts trying to track him down. Either he'd get arrested for violating national security or he'd show up with the next personnel delivery on the Daedalus. John's not sure which would be worse.


	2. Rocks fall, everybody lives

Waking up with a sheet over his face is never a good sign.

His first reflex is to shove it aside but John, sadly, has done this before and knows that the right thing to do is hold still and listen. He's in Atlantis; he can sense the presence of the city in the back of his mind, almost like he would another Immortal, a familiar shiver of _query/recognition/ready_ that runs through his head and down his spine every time he 'gates back from offworld or lands a jumper in the bay after going for a flight. Also, he's fairly sure that white shrouds, uncomfortable tables, and leaving the deceased stark naked in a freezing cold room are mortuary customs exclusive to Earth. He probably has a toe tag, too, but he can't actually feel his feet at the moment to be sure. First order of business once he gets moving is definitely going to be finding some warm clothes.

There aren't any voices to hear, but the muffled beep of medical equipment says he's in the temporary morgue attached to the infirmary. That's good; he's already taken too long to revive, but waking up in the deep freeze would have been even worse. If he could just remember what happened to kill him so thoroughly... oh. Yeah. Cave-in. Stalactites.

He can now completely sympathize with Matthew's story about getting skewered in a jousting match.

One benefit to Immortal memory: he _knows_ that his team got clear. Teyla and Ronon were quick enough to dodge the rocks that caught them at the edge of the collapse and he remembers shoving McKay back out of the way before catching the brunt of it himself. So he got crushed and impaled and probably bled out while he was at it. He wouldn't have started healing until after they dug him out and got all the shards out of everything important. Throw in the fact that his quickening has been unsettled since he and Kolya's pet Wraith reenacted The Great Escape (Enemy Mine? That one where the plane crashes in the Andes and they have to eat each other to survive?) and it's no surprise that it took him so long to revive. Unfortunately, he now has a problem. He can't exactly sneak out of the morgue, leave town, and start over like he did the last time he woke up dead. 

He's made it this far by lying through his teeth, charming the nurses, and having the best run of good luck in his entire life. Being in a situation where wounds could be miraculously healed by advanced technology, engineered retroviruses, and alien intervention helped a lot. It's a shame he can't fake a Daniel Jackson and claim that the Ancients sent him back (he's certainly got the naked part down) but everyone knows that Ascending doesn't leave a corpse. His luck had to run out some time. 

He can't run, he can't lie, and hiding under his sheet is not going to work as a long term solution. He's going to have to get up, walk out into the infirmary, scare a few years off whoever's on duty and face the music. At least he's got a good group of people here: they'll yell, they'll demand explanations, and they'll probably run enough medical tests to exsanguinate him a second time. But he'd lay money - is, in fact, about to bet his life - on all of them eventually dealing with it and accepting him rather than shipping him off to be a lab rat at Area 51. That's what he heard certain parties originally wanted to do with Teal'c.

If he's wrong... he hopes he's not wrong. But he has a standing order that Jumpers 5 and 6 be kept fully stocked with equipment, food, and weapons in case of any emergencies. He's pretty confident that he can get to one of them without killing anyone. And he's had several long talks with Ronon about how he managed to survive in the Pegasus galaxy for seven years with no friends, no support, and no place to call home. 

He really hopes he's not wrong.


	3. John has been shot down, a lot

Joining the Air Force was originally supposed to be a sort of long vacation. He applied to OTS, did his twelve weeks, and was looking forward to many happy years of flying things that went very fast. (The modern military is a remarkably stable career choice for an Immortal. Being reassigned every couple of years means that he's been able to hold onto the Sheppard identity for a lot longer than he could have in the private sector, and he hasn't even needed to start dyeing the gray into his hair yet.) That was before the Gulf War, long before losing limbs to roadside bombs or heads to angry insurgents was ever an issue. Even once it was, he figured that a pilot was still pretty safe; it's easy to avoid being captured if you don't mind being shot. Really, freak decapitation by rotor aside, the worst that he'd anticipated was a quick crash followed by a long walk back to base. He's been shot down before; it sucks, but it's not like it kills him for very long.

Which isn't to say that crashing isn't something that he tries very hard to avoid. Dying for his country is all well and good, but he's done it already - for five different countries, and twice for France - and he's always held the opinion that it's not something anyone should be required to do more than once. He didn't sign up for duty and patriotism; he signed up for Black Hawks and Cobras. 

Five hundred years he managed to live through without stepping back onto a battlefield, certainly without dying on one. Then they had to go and invent planes. 

John loves being a pilot, loves the speed and the freedom and the limitless stretch of the sky. He's flown SPADs, S.E.5s, Hurricanes, Spitfires, Boomerangs... incredible machines, all of them, and he loved every single one of them with all his heart even as they were blown out of the air. Dogfighting never was his forte, and having a tendency to take suicidal risks to save the other men in his squadrons probably didn't help. He's been shot down by Zeros and Fokkers, by a lucky Taliban and (he swears to this day) Manfred von Richthofen himself. In 1943 he switched from fighters to close air support and never looked back; in 1972 he tried his first helicopter and swore he'd never fly fixed-wings again. 

Afghanistan was a rude awakening. He'd gotten used to America's overwhelming military superiority, lowered his guard and let it lull him into false sense of security. All of his friends made it through Desert Storm in one piece. Then they lost Mitch and Dex on that medevac and the pieces had barely been shipped home before word came in that Holland and his crew were down, probably wounded but definitely in hostile territory. And Command was having trouble coordinating the extraction. 

His worst case scenario didn't plan for a mortal with a bullet in his leg. Both of them died there in the desert. John walked back to base. 

He glad that part never came up in his hallucinations with Teyla.

They slapped a black mark on his record and gave him a choice of dead-end postings in which to finish his service. He didn't much care at that point, but at least Antarctica didn't bring back any memories. All he wanted to do was put in his time, get his discharge, and then spend a couple generations doing something that didn't involve orders or uniforms or people getting killed. Commercial space flight sounded interesting. Maybe he'd move back to Berkeley. He could teach himself to play the drums.

Then his CO told him that they were expecting a VIP who was going to need a ride out to that secret research base that didn't exist.


End file.
